Immortal
by Crystalazer
Summary: There is no soldier that does not think his commanding soldier immortal. RoyRiza. Now a twoshot!
1. Epilogue

**Immortal**

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**Disclaimer: **All characters pertaining to this fanfiction do not belong to me. However, all content does. So back off, Stubby.

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_There is no soldier that does not think his commanding officer immortal. _

_--_

"See what would have happened if I let you take those hits for me?"

His once-glorious military uniform was ravaged and bloody. There were long, jagged gashes and she could tell that the sabers which made them cut a lot deeper than she could fathom.

"You shouldn't have saved me, Colonel. I'm only your lieutenant; there will always be others." Her voice was shaky beneath the attempted calm. He could tell she was frightened. This was a dangerous situation for both of them. If he was alive when the enemy found them, he would be as good as dead. If he died and left her alone, they would find her and do God knows what with her.

"Get out of here, lieutenant." He looked at her disbelieving features. She really was beautiful; brandy eyes wide and mouth slightly open, as if she was going to protest, but couldn't. Roy had always loved the way the sunlight caught her hair in just the right light; a quiet radiance gone un-noticed by her. "It's an order." He added for good measure.

Hawkeye bit her lip. He could see the strain it was causing her, not sure whether to disobey her commanding officer and stay with him and die alongside him or obey him and leave him for dead.

"Not without you, sir." She said finally, taking his hand.

"Lieutenant," He repeated, this time in as much of a commanding tone as he could muster, "I am ordering you to leave me and get yourself out of this hellhole."

"I can't do that, sir." Her voice was prompt and left no room for argument, but still he tried.

"Why can't you do that?" He asked.

"Because it is my duty to protect you, sir, and I very well can't protect you if I am not with you." She replied, brushing an invisible strand of blonde hair back. Even in the midst of war and decay, her hair remained perfect, not a single strand out of line, tied back and clipped neatly with the same glossy brown barrette she had been using for the last eight years. "I have already failed once."

Roy snorted. "You make it sound as if I can't take care of myself."

"Does it seem as if you can right now?" Her tone was completely polite, completely humble, but challenging at the same time. He loved it when she talked in that tone with him; it was an argument he knew he could never win, but he tried anyway because he was her commanding officer and he had to save face and leave with a scrap of his dignity.

"You better go, lieutenant." The Flame Alchemist decided to try again, now that another reason had come to mind.

"I've already told you, sir, I will not. Not without you."

"That dog of yours will need someone to take care of him." Oh. He hit a nail right on the head. Riza had always loved Black Hayate, even if she didn't show it openly. Her love was more subtle, a click of the tongue called him to her for a scratch behind the ears or an affectionate pat on the rump. Roy never quite understood the connection between dog and owner, but nevertheless, it did make him smile, but to himself, of course.

"Don't change the subject, sir."

"Obviously, you think we'll both survive."

"We will."

"And you know that because of what, Lieutenant?"

"…Because we've been in worse situations than this one, sir."

"Really? What can be worse than a general with half his ribs broken, his backs ripped to ribbons, and a lieutenant who won't obey his orders?"

Her retort was cut off by the sound of gunfire from around the corner. A rough voice called out orders in a foreign tongue. There was the rhythmic drumming of pairs of boots hitting the ground in not-quite-unison nearing.

Painstakingly, Roy fumbled in his pocket for his glove.

Three soldiers wearing black uniforms came into view. Each carried a machine gun. Their orders had been clear; kill any military personnel you come across.

"Leave me."

They raised their guns.

She had no intention of going anywhere. Her hand strayed to her hip.

They aimed.

"Leave!" His scream was lost in the fire of gunshot.

_--_

_Fin_

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**Authoress's Note: **Oi. It's been forever since I've written an FMA fic. And even now, it's still not very original. You know me; morbid war-stories are my calling. And I know you know that I love leaving you guys in the dark about the endings. And as always, the piece lost it's luster around the middle. Bear with it.

_Love it? Hate it? I'll never know unless you **review!**_


	2. Prelude

**Prelude**

_They never recall the possibility the day before._

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He sits, doing paperwork, while she sits, polishing her guns. It is two days before they are to be dispatched to Ishbal to take down some particularly rebellious natives who had publicly killed two soldiers the week before. The pictures from the execution caused everyone in the room to feel a little sick.

Roy Mustang hates the memory of Ishbal with all his heart, and that's why he is drafted to go there. He is too damn good at what he does. He stares at his gloves, laying on his desk, clean white and slightly crumpled, but looking overall harmless. Suddenly, Roy doesn't want to touch them. They were too clean…there was no reflection of any of the blood and fire he had seen, inflicted, these past years.

Though Riza Hawkeye has never used her bullets to blow out Ishbal brains, the mere thought of it sickens her. She cleans her guns all the same, even though she very well knows that in two days, they will be slick with blood and tears. As if this thought strengthens her resolve, she scrubs the rag on the metal barrel even harder.

Jean Havoc looks up from the cigarette he's trying, unsuccessfully, to light, noticing the uncomfortable silence. The Colonel was staring murderously at his gloves, and the first Lieutenant looks as if she's trying to wear a hole in the shiny metal barrel. They've both got that "penetrating-thought" look on their faces, and although these reoccurrences have been happening more frequently, he still finds it kind of disturbing.

Looking around, he figures that he's the only one who has noticed. Fuery is occupied with repairing something or other (Havoc himself has never been very good with mechanics), and Breda and Farman are off on a lunch break (Nevermind that lunch was still a good three hours away). Sighing slowly, he flicks the lighter again and his eyes light up as the cigarette clenched between his teeth finally catches flame.

_The mission will succeed. _Roy has learned to develop a sort of tunnel-vision when it came to times like these. Urged on by the adrenaline rush, he tunes out everything except for the target, even ignoring his own well-being. Completing the task he has been given is the only thing that matters.

Suddenly, his dark eyes shift over to his first lieutenant. He felt a dull pang around his ribcage and vaguely, he wonders what it is. She has accompanied him on many of these…excursions. He doesn't see why this time would be any different. So she had never seen the black blood soaking into the hard-packed ground, the hacked-off limbs lying haphazardly on the ground, the petrified stares as they are consumed by flame.

And no matter how much he hates the idea of going back for another kill, he knows that the outcome will always remain the same. The military would overpower the rebels. The culprits would be caught and executed. No exceptions.

This, atleast, gives Roy Mustang a little peace of mind.

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Hooray for Third Person Omniscient! -cheers-

Okay, so I didn't intend for "Immortal" to be a two-shot, but since I got such good reviews on it, and a few requests to continue it, I thought I'd give you all a little Prelude. Duly unexciting, but it's still something.

Oh, and I ought to have mentioned sooner...I know that Riza has, indeed, blown out Ishbal brains before. It said so. But I didn't say that this was an exact canon story. We're putting them into a "What if" situation here. Play along. It'll make life much easier.

_Love it? Hate it? I'll never know unless you **review!**_


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